


The Four Bikers of the Beginning Times

by mistrali



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Humour, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistrali/pseuds/mistrali
Summary: “We’ll be juvenile d’linquents,” Adam said, with all the aplomb of eleven. He‘d seen some on American films and thought it very grand. “Outlaws, riding wild and runnin’ free. Like Robin Hood.”





	The Four Bikers of the Beginning Times

**Author's Note:**

> Slight hint of slash... well, aesthetic attraction.
> 
> Many thanks to anarchyclock (anachronist) for the beta.

It was a summer’s day in Lower Tadfield. The Them were at the quarry, perched on milk-crate thrones, plotting while eating ice lollies.

“We’ll be juvenile d’linquents,” Adam said, with all the aplomb of eleven. He‘d seen some on American films and thought it very grand. “Outlaws, riding wild and runnin’ free. Like Robin Hood.”

“Yeah, like my mum’s always goin’ wild about visitin’ my nan,” offered Brian. Can’t think why anyone’d want to be anyone’s nan, he thought, perplexed. Maybe they get special bikes.

“Nah, like the Johnsonites,” said Wensley. “My dad says they rode their bikes round to his friend’s place one day and started chuckin’ rocks through his window.”

“No,” said Adam, frowning. “That’s cheating, see, cos we’re copying. Anyway, it’s not allowed chuckin’ rocks. My dad’d go spare.”

“We could just throw peppermints,” Brian suggested half-heartedly. A couple of sweet wrappers eddied in the sudden wind and landed at his feet. There was a silence. They all instinctively felt that peppermints lacked a certain romance.

“My aunt says gangs’ve got hooligans in ‘em,” said Brian, perking up.

“Picky was shouting about them at church last week,” added Pepper.

There was general interest at this. Anything that roused Picky’s ire was worth pursuing.

“Yeah, _and_ they ride proper bikes. With gears and speed settings and combusting engines and that. Like - l-like...”

She trailed off. Brian crunched his ice lolly and looked around uneasily, trying not to think of melting, shadowed figures at the edges of his mind.

“Like those bike gangs on telly,” he suggested at length. They’d been on the evening news the other day; Brian’s dad had harrumphed and gone on about The Long Arm of the Law and The State of the World Today. “The Hell’s Angels and that.”

“Yeah! Except they’re all boys,” said Pepper. “Sexists.”

“Er,” said Wensleydale, “That’s ‘cause they haven’t actually got any actual girls joining ‘em. I expect they’d have more girls if they’d actually join up.”

“That’s why they’re sexist, stupid,” said Pepper scornfully. “Anyway, we’ll make our own gang one day, and that’ll have loads of girls.”

Adam cleared his throat. “Look, it’s all right sittin’ here debatin’ about sexism. But it’ll be lunchtime soon,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “We’ll have to go home in the middle of it if we don’t start now.”

“Yeah,” added Brian. “I bet the Hell’s Angels and all them don’t have to go home for lunch. ‘S undignified.”

Pepper and Wensley considered this, and decided it had merit. The four of them ran joyfully around the corner to get their bikes.

“Can’t b’lieve I’ve got to ride this,” grumbled Pepper, hauling it out of the way of a couple of stones. 

It looked good enough to Brian - blue was a boy’s colour, after all. And people who got brand new bikes for their birthday shouldn’t be going around whinging, he thought, with the bitter experience of one who had too many older brothers. He rubbed at the handlebars of his own bike, which had been lying sideways in the dirt and was now coated with dust and mud.

When they reconvened, Adam was appointed gang leader and chose Brian to be his right-hand man. Brian glowed, and listened as Pep was assigned to steal things. Adam came up with the best ideas.

“What about Dog?” he asked. Adam gave him an appraising look. “Dog’s the lookout,” he said. “He can sit in the basket and watch for the police. Can’t you, boy?“ He laughed and ruffled Dog’s fur.

Dog whined and cocked his head.

“I don’t want to be any bloody robber,” muttered Pepper. “I want to be...” She brightened. “Do I get a gun?”

Adam shrugged as if it was all the same to him. “Yeah, if you want. Only,” he added sternly, “you’re meant to use it to fight evil. Robin Hood and his Merry Men. And Woman.”

Pepper beamed, and promptly liberated a nearby tree of several of its twigs. 

“Wensley,” said Adam, “What’re you going to do?”

“Reckon I’ll be heroic’ly rescued,” said Wens, who had sat back down on one of the milk crates and was flicking intently through The Boy’s Science Almanack he’d brought with him. “They’re always goin’ off to rescue someone.”

“Yeah, but you got to get up,” insisted Brian, thinking it was a reasonable enough request. “You can’t sit there waiting to be rescued. We’ve gotta find you.”

“Actually, not always. What if I was being eaten by a dragon?”

The other three traded glances. “All right,” conceded Adam, with an air of magnanimity. “But try to look depressed.”

“D’you mean distressed?” asked Wensley, but Adam and Pepper had already hopped onto their bikes and were pedaling down the path.

Wens turned back to his book, a contented little smile on his face. Funny way to look depressed, thought Brian, watching Wensley’s hands turn the pages. 

Sometimes he thought he could have looked at Wens forever. But Adam and Pepper were calling him, and there were trees to be climbed and creeks to be jumped in. Shrugging off the urge to stay, he ran to join them.

****


End file.
